Always
by Glory Amethyst
Summary: Bellamy comforts Clarke in her grief. Takes place after 1x9, 'Unity Day'. Bellamy x Clarke.


**Summary: Bellamy comforts Clarke in her grief. Takes place after 1x9, 'Unity Day'. Bellamy x Clarke.**

 **Author's Note:**

 **I will admit – I am still fairly new to** _ **The 100**_ **fandom and currently catching on the new seasons but I couldn't resist the calling of Bellamy and Clarke any longer, and this was created. I have been craving for so long for these two to get together, so I'm basically just writing out my 'what if' scenarios that formed in my head. This is my very first** _ **The 100**_ **story, as well as writing Bellamy and Clarke, so any feedback would be very helpful!**

"No…" Clarke dropped on her knees, feeling her breath leave her lungs in a rush. Her heart shattered, pain striking her heart so fiercely she couldn't breathe. The bright flash lighting the sky with its flames was burned in her mind, now forever a memory she would be unable to forget. A part of her said no; that what she saw wasn't real, that whatever it was, it had simply been her imagination. Deep down, though, she knew…she knew what she saw was the same drop box holding her mother. Hearing Bellamy's silent swearing only made it more real.

Her mother was dead.

Nothing else mattered in that moment. The Grounders, the day's events and their stress that followed, the tension between her friends – none of it existed anymore, only the gut wrenching realization of what just happened. And it was in that very moment did Clarke's emotions were released. Grief, anger, sadness, confusion. It flooded her like a strong gust of wind, and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth as her eyes watered, her body already trembling, but there was no stopping the tears from flowing. She didn't even try to stop them. A quiet sob escaping her lips was the only warning she received before she fell forward over her knees and cried.

Bellamy wasn't quite sure what to do. The only person he had ever see cry was his sister, and he had made it his duty as a brother to protect her. Comforting his sister was nothing strange to him. This was different. This was _Clarke_. Strong, intelligent Clarke, doubled over in visible physical and emotional pain, forgetting the world – and his presence – around her. No matter what trials she – _they_ – went through, there was never a moment where she didn't hold herself together like the brave person she is. To see her like this, broken and crumbling in grief and tears, it was not only strange but also heartbreaking. And all Bellamy wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and protect her from the world. The other strange part, this was not out of brotherly instinct but…something more.

Bellamy quietly crouched next to her, lightly brushing his fingers over her shoulder, careful not to startle her. "Hey…"

Hearing his voice so close to her ear forced Clarke back into reality and remember she was, in fact, not alone. She raised her head to look up at him, and Bellamy felt his heart sink all the way down to his stomach. Her eyes, filled with tears and anguish, stared back at him, her cheeks pale and damp. "Bellamy," was all Clarke could choke out.

He didn't need for her to say anything else – just to have her attention, although he wasn't necessarily sure _why_ he had wanted her attention. It wasn't like he could wave his hand and relieve her of this pain. Bellamy then did something that surprised himself – he raised his arm, inviting her close. "Come here."

Clarke's shock was only brief, before twisting her body and falling in his arms. She didn't know whether it was feeling his strong arms wrapping around her, or the realization of her mother's fate finally settling in, but the tears flowed again like a river. This time she was not so silent and short sobs escaped her, and she buried her face in Bellamy's chest, trying so desperately to block out the image of the drop box crashing, but it would not go away. It was all she saw, crash after crash, the bright flames of the explosive nearly blinding her, despite it having been a good distance away.

"It's alright, princess," Bellamy murmured in her hair. "I got you." All she could do was cry. There were no words for her speak.

Deciding they have been outside long enough, Bellamy gathered her in his arms, rose to his feet, and made a bee line for her tent. They did not go unnoticed as he had hoped. His sister came running over, Finn right at her heels. "I heard a crash. Is everything—" Octavia's eyes fell on Clarke, widening in concern. "What happened?"

"Right now isn't a good time," was all Bellamy offered before turning away.

Octavia tried to stop him. "Bell—"

"Not. Now." Shooting a pointed look over his shoulder at his sister, Bellamy made the extra effort to avoid Finn's gaze. He didn't need to look at him to gauge his mood; he could feel his eyes burning in his skull, and when Bellamy turned away and disappeared in the tent, he caught a glimpse of Finn's hurtful gaze staring after them, specifically Clarke.

Her sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles by the time Bellamy brought her over to the makeshift bed and lowered her on the covers, and when he turned to find something to cover her with, Clarke grabbed his arm. Hesitance sparked in her eyes for only a moment. "Stay. Please," she pleaded. "I…I don't want to be alone tonight, Bellamy."

Bellamy didn't say anything at first, caught off guard by this request. They did not see eye to eye very well sometimes, and he often felt frustrated by the frequency of their disputes, but there was a part of him that was fond of Clarke. Perhaps more than fond. He did not think, however, she would ever consider directing the slightest thought towards him. Finally, he smiled at her – a warm smile, full of compassion and understanding, and gripped her hand. "I am not going anywhere," he promised.

Relief flooded her features. Slowly, Clarke sat up and brought her knees to her chest but said nothing. Her eyes had a distant glimmer and it did not take Bellamy long to figure out she was lost in her thought. It was why he was surprised when she spoke a moment later. "I'm sorry," she rasped out.

Bellamy shook his head. "There is nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes. There is." Clarke sighed, closing her eyes. "I shouldn't…I'm supposed to be strong. I'm—"

"Human," Bellamy cut in. "You are human, Clarke. And humans can be strong for only so long. How many times have you put the lives of others before yourself?"

That made her crack a smile. Although it was small, it was a smile nonetheless. "Still."

"No," he said firmly, tightening his grip on her hand. "Do you know what I think? I think you are too strong sometimes."

Clarke tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. "Is that even possible?"

"Yes." Bellamy wasn't going argue. Whether or not it was possible or impossible to be too strong, he knew Clarke. In some ways she was like him. She cared about others before herself; selfless in her acts to ensure the safety of everyone before herself. The safety of others mattered the most to her. The safety of Clarke mattered the most to _him_. "When was the last time you have actually slept? When was the last time you actually thought about yourself? You just lost your mother. You are entitled to feel. You are entitled to cry. Because you _deserve_ it, Clarke, just as everyone else deserves to grieve. But you…" Bellamy let out a short laugh. "You of all people in this camp deserve even the shortest moment to just care for yourself. Do you know why? Because we wouldn't have made it this far without you."

"Bellamy—"

"They need you. Weneed you." Bellamy swallowed. " _I_ need you."

Clarke stared at him in disbelief. Maybe she was imagining things after all, because she didn't just hear Bellamy openly confess to _caring_ – no, _needing_ her around. She often felt so frustrated with him she wondered if he cared at all. His arrogance, his flirtatious, smug attitude – it wasn't there. Right now, as she looked in his eyes, all Clarke could see was pure sincerely…and compassion, a side to Bellamy she had never seen. Her eyes then flickered to his lips and when she looked back at his face, she saw he was doing the same. His eyes lingered a bit longer on her lips before returning to her face, his dark eyes holding her in a trance.

Bellamy was suddenly moving closer. "Clarke," he muttered, and said nothing else. No words needed to be said.

Clarke met him half way. Their lips scarcely touched, a mere brush. He was giving her a chance to pull away, and when she didn't, he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips more firmly against hers. He kissed her slowly, passionately, but not roughly. There was no hesitance in Clarke as she slid her hands up to his shoulders, more than willing returning the kiss. While it was brief, it was enough to leave them breathless when they parted, and Bellamy found the temptation too rich to resist glancing down at her face, secretly admiring the way her eyelids were half shut, a look of serenity on her face, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Her eyes then fluttered open. Clarke looked up at him and then the peaceful glow was gone, her gaze lowering to her lap.

Bellamy frowned. "What is it?" he asked softly.

"It's just…" Clarke struggled to find the words. Much to her surprise, Bellamy did not seem to mind and patiently waited. She sighed. "The last time I spoke with my mother…it didn't end well," she confessed quietly. "And now…now she is…gone. To think she died believing I hated her…"

Her lips quivered at the thought. Bellamy silently lifted her chin, looking deeply in her eyes. "Your mother loved you with all her heart. There is nothing that would have changed that, even while you were angry, and I refuse to believe she died thinking you hated her."

Clarke swallowed. The last words she said to her mouth echoed in her ears. She had been so angry. So, so angry. And now her mother was gone. Was Bellamy right, did she knew she loved her, despite her burning anger? She didn't want to think about it. She couldn't. The thought wouldn't leave her though. She closed her eyes tightly as they burned with tears and it took every fiber in her being not to haunch forward again, and cry as she did earlier. This time instead of the cold ground, her bed sat underneath her; and instead of the harsh wind nipping at her skin, she had Bellamy's arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

"Don't leave," she whispered.

"I won't." Bellamy kissed her temple. "I will always be here, princess. Always."


End file.
